To Protect
by VampireApple
Summary: All of the Avengers are used to danger in battle. They don't necessarily like it when someone has the gall to go after them in a sneaky, underhanded manner. They tend to retaliate in a not to merciful way. Thor's chapter is up.
1. Steve

**Steve**

The warehouse the villain had chosen was very stereo-typical. Tony would have been horrified by the cliché. Steve was escorted to a dimly lit room. Bruce was hanging by his arms against the wall. His eyes were glowing green in the darkness. There was no Bruce, only Hulk.

"Welcome Captain America!"

Steve moved to the center of the room. He slid his backpack from his shoulder and let it land on the floor. It made a loud, metallic thunk.

"You're not dealing with Captain America. You're dealing with Steve Rogers."

The villain paused at the response but continued. "It matters not what you call yourself-"

"It does matter," Steve interrupted. "It matters a great deal. However, since you have Bruce here, I presume you are more interested my blood than my name."

The villain was unsure how to react. He expected the Captain to either fight or offer himself and have his teammates go free. "Yes, you presume correctly. I will use the serum to-"

Steve drew a gun with a silencer on it and shot the villain in the knee. The man went down screaming. Hulk grunted at the screaming. Steve walked towards the villain.

"The serum's purpose was to make the perfect soldier. A soldier fights for his country, and his beliefs. But first he fights for his unit, his team. My first loyalty will always be to them. And then, what is that common adage that people are constantly saying today? War changes people? Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder? Soldiers aren't adjusting to civilian life after being on the war field?"

Steve shot the man in his other knee. The man howled in pain.

"It wasn't a selfless act, going down with the plane. There was no point in living, not after Bucky died. Bucky belonged to me and I failed him. I liked Peggy and Howard, but they weren't Bucky. Then a miracle happened. I woke up in this strange time. Then I found five other people to call my own. Mine. They belong to me. And you took them. That will be the last mistake you ever make."

"You're the good guy! You don't do things like this!" The villain protested, all his sophistication vanishing.

"I don't enjoy killing people, as a rule. I won't even enjoy killing you, or making you suffer. And you will suffer."

Steve used his foot to yank the man's arm away from his body and shot the man's elbow. He did the same to the other arm and both his knees. Then he took out a blow torch to cauterize the wounds, to prevent him from bleeding to death. The man screamed and screamed. When he passed out after Steve had finished both his arms Steve woke him up. Hulk watched all of this, grumbling softly.

Steve stood when he was finished. "Now, you are going to wait here while I take care of everyone else here."

He walked over to where Bruce's body was hanging. He wasn't wearing a shirt. Other than the bruises on his wrists he seemed okay. Just drugged.

"You okay Hulk?"

Hulk growled. "Star Man."

Steve ran his hands through Bruce's hair to assure himself that his team member was okay. He looked for a weak point in the chains and broke them. He caught Bruce before he fell to the ground. Stave arranged him so he was leaning against the wall, as comfortable as he could make it. "I'm sorry about the manacles. I'll get them off as soon as I can. I'll be right back. I have to take care of the rest of this group and find the team."

"Team," Hulk grumbled.

"I'll get them" Steve promised.

He left the room. Taking down the rest of the people in the warehouse was easy. They weren't expecting anything. Sloppy. He took them all out with a clean bullet to the brain. Finding the rest of his team was easy.

"Steve!" Tony was the first to notice him. "I have never been so glad to see you." He made a face. "And I will mostly likely never say that again, so don't get used to it."

Steve smiled slightly. "Of course not." He looked around the room. "Is everyone okay?"

Tony was next to Thor, the god's movement sluggish. Tony was trying to help him stand. Natasha and Clint were curled around each other right next to the pair.

"We're fine," Tony answered. "Just some minor injuries, scrapes, bruises. They've been surprising gentle. Whatever they gave Thor is wearing off. He should be okay to move in a few minutes. They took Bruce somewhere."

"I know where he is," Steve assured the genius. "He's okay. I'll go get him. By the time I get back, Thor should be ready to move, right?"

"Yeah," Tony answered.

Before he left he went to each of his teammate, to make sure they were okay. That Clint and Natasha hadn't spoken worried him. He'd care for them properly when they got back to the tower. Or maybe he'd insist they go to Malibu.

"I'll be back," he promised.

Steve made sure there wouldn't be any visible bodies on the path he planned on leading his team out on. Once that was done he went back to get Bruce.

He knelt by the man on the floor. His eyes were glazed and he was pale from and sweating from pain. Steve smacked his cheek to make sure he was wake. He drew a knife and slit his throat, not deep enough to kill him right away. Steve wanted him to live for a little while yet, let him feel the horror of choking on his own blood. He cleaned the blood from his hands before he went to his teammate.

"Hey, Hulk? You okay?"

"Smash," Hulk mumbled.

"Yeah, I did," Steve said as he wrapped Bruce's arm around his shoulder helping him walk. "Let's keep that between us, okay?"

"Star Man."

Steve took that as agreement.

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_I adore this chapter. A lot. Its just so not Steve that I love it._

_I'll be up-dating every week or two, and mostly have the fic done, there's just two more Avengers I have to get through. _

_If anyone knows of any fics along a dark/violent vein like this one, would you mind sharing? I love dark fics like this, and it can be difficult to find them._

_Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the Avengers franchise._

_7/28/2013 _

_NOTE: I posted the wrong chapter before, and this is the edited one, with less exposition and more violence. _

_8/11/2013_


	2. Natasha

**Natasha**

"Don't you think its odd that no one has come in?" Tony asked conversationally. He had gotten a lot better at this being kidnapped business. It helped that this time Clint had gotten taken with him. "Because, seriously, its been like an hour. These guys are really bad at what they do."

"Shut up Tony, I'm almost done," Clint snapped.

Tony stopped talking. Because, really, Clint had been through a lot. Well, they'd been kidnapped, but nothing new there. They'd been rudely and roughly tossed into a depressingly bare room. Clint had _dislocated his arm_ in order to escape his bonds. Tony had to help _pop it back in place_ while he was still tied up. Ugh. Not something he wanted to repeat. Ever. Then Clint had used what was in their pockets to jury-rig a lock pick. The bad guys had only frisked them for their weapons. The obvious weapons. Tony's genius was insulted. He was also insulted on Clint's behalf. When he mentioned this, Clint had shrugged it off, saying it was useful.

"But, really. We've been here, what, three hours?"

"Tony!"

Tony stayed quiet until Clint stood up. "Okay. The door's unlocked."

"Well, should we go out there?"

The two looked at each other. This had been different. They'd hardly been hurt, no one had come in and it had been ridiculously easy to escape.

Tony laughed. "Who am I kidding? Let's go."

Clint opened the door a fraction and peered out. There was no one in the hall. He pushed it open and stepped out of the room. "There's no one here."

Tony poked his head out, leaving the rest of his body in the room. "Huh."

Clint snickered at him.

Tony flipped him off. "Better safe than sorry."

"Since when?"

Tony ignored him as they made their way down the hall. They soon got to the end of it, and it split into opposite directions.

"There was a struggle here," Clint observed.

"… how can you possibly know that?"

"The scuff marks on the floor."

"Well, might as well follow the yellow brick road!"

"Other way genius."

"Of course I am."

"Do you hear that?" Clint paused.

"No?"

"It sounds like-" Clint broke off, suddenly tense.

Tony, contrary to popular belief, did know when to be quiet and sometimes exorcized that right. Like right now. He followed Clint as the archer cautiously made his way to the closest door. He opened it and peered inside. Tony could hear muffled noises coming from within.

"Natasha?" Clint asked softly. He took a few steps into the room.

Confused, Tony followed him. Why would Natasha be here? Had she gotten-

The smell of gore assaulted him the moment he stepped into the room, taking his focus from everything else. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to gag. He bumped into Clint who latched onto his forearm, gripping tightly.

"Natasha?" Clint asked again.

Tony opened his eyes and tried to focus in the dimly lit room. In the center there were two figures- one crouching over the other. He realized that Natasha was crouching over another body, which was making the muffled noises. His brain didn't want to take in the rest of the image. Natasha was holding a bloody knife in one hand, while her other was in the man's stomach. The man's chest was jerking in a parody of breathing. There was a rag in his mouth to muffle his screams. Tony felt like throwing up from horror. Clint squeezed his arm to prevent him from moving or saying anything.

"Natasha, how many are left?"

Tony gladly tore his eyes away from Natasha's hand in the guy's middle to stare at Clint.

"Only three, after this one."

Tony snapped back to Natasha, looking only at her face. She had blood on her face. But she sounded so calm, like they were having tea and she was talking about cookies. She jerked her hand out and something came out in her grip. The man wheezed and became still. Numbness crept through Tony's body.

"How many were there?"

"Only twenty-five." She gestured around the room. There were bodies along the outer walls. The three men who were alive were bound several feet behind her.

"Natasha, we need to go."

Natasha nodded. She stood up and walked calmly to her captivates. She quickly and clean slit their throats, mostly avoiding the blood that spited out. Clint let her exit the room before them. In the brightness of the hallway it was very easy for Tony to see that she was covered in blood.

"Are you two alright?" Natasha asked, her eyes roaming over them. She moved closer to Clint and started to run her hands over him to check him for injuries. Blood followed in the wake of her fingers. Tony felt bile at the back of his throat.

"We're fine," Clint answered easily.

"Your arm is bruised."

"I had to dislocate it to get out of the bonds they had us in. Tony popped it back, no problem."

Natasha hummed low in her throat. "I shouldn't have taken to so long. But they hurt what is mine, and they had to suffer." She paused. "Still, I apologize for not coming sooner."

"Naw, its good."

Tony stood stock still as she checked him. She left trails of blood all over him as well. Both he and Clint had blood all over them from her hands.

"Did you bring car?" Clint asked.

"A jeep."

"Where is it? Do you mind if Tony and I go get it while you finish up here?"

She studied them both before giving them directions. Clint grabbed Tony and dragged him away.

"What the fuck, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck," Tony muttered as soon as they were out of ear shot.

"Natasha would never hurt us. The Avengers." Clint was still pale himself.

"She fucking tortured, eviscerated… shit," Tony said weakly.

Clint laughed darkly. "She didn't exactly have a normal childhood. I was the first person she ever liked… and that later transferred to the team. She'll do whatever is necessary to keep us safe."

"Fuck. I think I might puke." Tony bent over and did exactly that. He whipped his mouth when he was done. "Does the rest of the team know?"

"I think Bruce does. Its easier to just accept it and not think about it," Clint offered. "You won't be able to get away from her. She won't let you. She won't ever hurt you though."

"Fuck."

"C'mon, before she gets too restless."

Tony followed after Clint. Even through the horror he felt, Tony wondered why he wasn't truly shocked, or why he wasn't terrified Natasha would turn on him as well. Best not to question it too closely.

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_I love Natasha, and I think she has the potential to be the most violent while being in character. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the Avengers franchise. _

_8/4/2013_


	3. Tony

**Tony**

The first text message came right as the team was getting to the restaurant. Only Bruce caught the tension in Tony's body but the billionaire waved off his unspoken concern before firing a text back. The second text came while they were waiting for their food to come.

"Stark, what is so important?" Natasha asked.

"Yeah, the only people willing to talk to you are here," Clint quipped.

Tony smiled and waved a lazy hand. "JARVIS is sending me some up-dates on a project I have going, and I have to tell him what I want to have happen next."

"What project?" Bruce asked.

Tony grinned. "Something small, might not even work. I'll tell you about it later."

"I'm looking forward to dessert," Steve changed the subject. Conversation flowed easily for the rest of the evening, with Tony receiving only two more texts. It really was a special treat for everyone, and they were determined to enjoy it. When they got home to the mansion they watched a movie, completing the perfect evening of simply enjoying time off.

While the others were heading off to bed Tony went in the direction of his workshop.

"Tony, are you going down to check out that project? Would you like some help?" Bruce asked.

Tony waved him off. "Naw. JARVIS has it under control. I'm just checked out the final stages. Go to bed, I'll join you all in an hour or so."

"Do not tarry too long," Thor called out. "Sleep is not your enemy."

"Whatever you say," Tony replied laughing. He went into his workshop. "JARVIS?"

"Hello sir. Currently Captain Rogers is still in the bathroom. Agent Barton is on his way to the bedroom."

"Let me know when everyone's in bed, will you?"

"Of course, sir."

While he was waiting he cleaned the lens of You, Dummy and Butterfingers.

"Sir, everyone is in the bedroom."

"Excellent." Tony rubbed his hands together like a cheesy villain. "Time to get myself to the party."

"Very good, sir."

Tony walked over to the hidden entrance that led to the storage area for his suits. He entered the chamber, looking around to make sure everything was in place. He smiled when he saw the Mark VIII was not in its place. He continued over to the Mark II. The case smoothly slid open. Tony stepped inside and went down a corridor. He opened the door at the end of it. There was no need for a lock, as no one would ever escape from this room, and no one would be able to break in. Only he and JARVIS knew about it, and only they ever would. Well, at some point there were other unfortunate souls who knew of this room, but they took that knowledge to their graves.

He walked in the door and studied the scene before him. The room itself was small, ten foot by ten foot, grey steel walls. A harsh light shone down on the sturdy metal table in the center of the room. The only other permanent fixture in the room was an antique oak dresser against the opposite wall from the door. The Mark VIII stood motionless at the head of the table. The person on the table was in better shape than Tony thought he would be. There were a few scrapes, and a bruise or two, but not much else. Of course, JARVIS was most likely just saving the pleasure of more physical pain for Tony. The acupuncture needles sticking out of various places, however. Those would be very painful.

"Alright, JARVIS buddy, why don't you give me a recap?" he asked as he walked in the room. He knew the gist of course. This was to let the man on the table know that he had been watched the moment he has entered Stark property.

"This man entered my sensor's range fifteen minutes thirty-four seconds after the Avengers left my range," JARVIS spoke, his voice coming out of the suit. This room was completely free of tech, a small generator powered the lights. Tony didn't want anyone to have even the hope of an advantage. Not that anyone ever would have an advantage.

"As soon as he registered I sent the text to you and activated the Mark VIII. I waited until he had entered the mansion before I wrapped the amour around him to bring him down here. I sent another text after I had him strapped down to the table. I proceeded to have the Mark VII use the acupuncture needles as my interrogation to inflict maximum pain with minimum damage. I messaged you with any relevant information he provided."

Tony nodded. It didn't really matter to him why this intruder had been sent. Really, the answer was obvious. The who, however, was important. When he was finished here he would start his retaliation. He turned his attention to the man on the table. He was holding very still, as any movement would cause pain. "Thank you JARVIS."

"Of course, sir."

"Now," Tony continued in a hospitable tone, "I don't know if your boss just wanted you out of the way and so sent you on a suicide mission, or if someone honestly thought you'd be able to take the Avengers on our home turf. In my house."

He stepped around to the side of the table and tisked. "JARVIS, would you please remove the needles, put them away and hand me something sharp from the dresser?"

The man watched him warily.

Tony patted his cheek. "I already know what I need to know in order to stop the rest of your group. Now I'm just going to make you scream."

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_Yes, I am implying that the team is all in one big relationship if you read between the lines. _

_Also, for some reason the wrong chapter for Steve got posted. The one that got posted the rough draft and is different from the final chapter, mostly is Steve killing the guy in a more violent manner. So if you want to take a look again, there you go. _

_8/11/013_


	4. Thor

**Thor**

Bruce was lost in thought as he walked down the halls. His mind absently registered the presences of an Asgardian coming the other way. He thought he had given enough room so he wouldn't touch the other man, but he estimated wrong. Still, even though their shoulders knocked together, and though it wasn't a very hard impact he felt bad. "I apologize," he said and sincerely meant it.

He felt a prickle of nervousness when he received no response. He was not well versed in court manners, though he'd memorized everything Thor had told the team. He knew they were guests, and that they reflected upon Thor. "I really am-"

The other man cut him off. "You are one of the prince's pets."

Bruce was taken off guard. His mouth snapped shut so hard his teeth clicked together. Pets? Were they not considered 'people' on Asgurd?

"For all his fight, the prince has always had a soft spot," the man continued.

Bruce took a step back, more unease filling him. The man hadn't said anything threatening yet, but it certainly seemed like they were heading that way. "I don't-"

The man reached out and grabbed Bruce's wrist. He knew he would have a bruise.

"He shouldn't let his weak pets wander around unprotected." On the last word the Asgardian twisted Bruce's wrist and broke it.

Bruce couldn't keep in his scream and fought to keep Hulk back. He had no idea what Hulk would do on Asgard, or what would happen to yhem.

"Glammed."

Bruce looked over the shoulder of the man in front of him to see Thor. The man -Glammed- dropped Bruce's wrist.

"My price, I-"

"Bruce belongs to me. You knew his, and still you touched him."

"My prince-"

Thor stepped closer and punched a hole in Glammed's chest then ripped his heart out. Bruce forgot all about the pain in his wrist as he watched the body fall to the floor. Thor stared at it dispassionately before throwing the heart on the ground. Bruce's mind whorled with how strong Thor would have to be to punch through muscle and bone and then to _yank out a man's heart_ like it was noodles.

"Thor," his voice cracked.

"Bruce," Thor said. He knelt in front of Bruce and gently took his arm to inspect it.

Bruce stared at the blood that was now on his arm.

"I apologize Bruce. You are mine and you should not have come to harm. Allow me to escort you to the court healer."

Bruce suspected that even if he wanted Thor to leave him alone, his wishes wouldn't be been met. "Um, yeah- yes, please." Thor did not let go of Bruce, gently leading him down the hall. "Thor, you ripped that man's heart out of his chest… a broken wrist isn't even all that bad, considering."

Thor actually growled. "You, the rest of our team, belong to me and are my responsibility. You should have come to no harm here. Glammed knew this. I will let no harm come further to any of you."

Bruce was quiet the rest of the way to the healers. He knew one thing for certain, he never wanted to be on the outside of Thor's protective circle.

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_Alright, so this isn't as violent as the others, but I think is pretty contradictory to Thor's nature. Even though honestly he's the one with the most battle experience, its really hard for me to see him as totally cruel, like the other three so far. Plus, its really, really hard to tear someone's heart out with your bare hands. _

_And the name Glammed is an actual Viking name that I looked up._

_Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the Avengers franchise. _

_8/18/2013_


	5. Clint

"I understand that I am an assassin, and that it is to my benefit that I am constantly underestimated," Clint told his captive, circling around him "but, I honestly expected better. I mean, this was plan C. I went all the way to plan J. I expected you to at least be good enough that I had to get to plan F. I really liked plan F."

He poked his captive with a knife, making him bleed. The man didn't say anything, just glared, Clint had to give him that. He was stoic, if a little stupid. He'd brought his captive to the gym, stripped him down to his underwear, trussed him up and hung him upside down and shone a spot light on him so he couldn't see his surroundings in the dark room. He liked this sort of set up for interrogations.

"I'm really not much of a sadist," Clint continued in a matter of fact tone "its just that you really pissed me off, so I'm going to work off some aggression." He bent down so he was eye level "For the record- Natasha can totally take care of herself. In fact, she's better than anyone on this team, except, perhaps, Bruce, but it still pisses me off when people go after her. So, we'll have some fun."

He cut the man's cheek and watched as blood ran into his eye. "Oh, this will be fun."

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"Clint?" Tony asked as he opened the door. "Cli- oh, _gross_! Clint!"

Clint looked over at Tony, eyebrows raised in question. "What? I didn't do it on carpet this time."

Tony surveyed the scene before him. Clint was sitting on the floor in front a body hung from the ceiling- dead body? Nope, the chest moved, so unconscious. Maybe. There was blood all over Clint. His hair was spiked from him running his bloody hands through it. Blood also covered the body and the title floor. There were various 'instruments of doom' around him- knives, a blow torch, pliers, bolt cutters, a fork… Body parts were scattered around- bits of flesh, fingers, some teeth, a toe, eyes. Tony grimaced at the last. The archer himself was looked like a schoolboy who couldn't understand why an authority figure was upset. "Did you have to do this in the gym?"

"Well, you and Cap got mad at the mess I made last time, so I did it in here. Tile is easy to clean."

Tony looked at the floor. Most of the blood was dried. "Blood can stain anything. Next time, throw down a tarp and that can just be thrown away."

He looked around at the mess. "Huh."

Sighing Tony shook his head. "Dinner's going to be ready in half an hour. Are you almost done here?"

Clint considered the body. He took a butcher knife and slit the man's throat in a smooth move. "Yeah, I'm done." He stood up and stretched. "You want me to clean up now?"

"I don't think there's time. Go shower. We'll worry about this mess later." Tony scowled. "I'll probably have to replace the floor here."

"You mean, Pepper will arrange someone to," Clint grinned. He walked towards the showers, stepping on one of the eyes. Tony twitched at the sound. Gore followed in Clint's wake.

"Take your shoes off and stop tracking blood everywhere!"

Tony grabbed the boots Clint threw at him. He didn't want blood to get on the walls, but ew, it was on his hands.

"Asshole!"

"Clint flipped him off as he disappeared into the shower room.

"I'm telling the Cap and you're so not getting cookies!"

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_I liked this chapter. It's a different take, where as in the other ones no one/only a one or two find out, everyone knows about Clint, and kind of treat it in a 'you rascal' sort of way._

_Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the Avengers franchise. _

8/25/2013


End file.
